Collide
by samanddianefan10
Summary: After Toby's world falls apart he finds comfort from an unlikely source. A Michael/Toby friendship fic.
1. Chapter 1

Collide

He'd weathered just about every other change in his life imaginable. He had a job he could tolerate, with the exception of the abuse heaped upon him by the manager, Michael Scott. Michael went out of his way to verbally abuse him every time he saw Toby, and for a long time he didn't understand why. Now he didn't bother to ask why anymore. It was just the way he was. Just as it was Toby's job to perform HR duties and to show up to work every day, it was Michael's job to put him down and to attack him however he could. The only reason he didn't stand up for himself was at least when Michael talked to him, it meant he wasn't invisible. That's what his therapist said anyways.

And then there was the divorce. Toby never forgot how he felt when his wife announced that she wanted a divorce and that she was taking their daughter with her- everything just fell apart. He knew that he had fallen short of being a good husband- in the back of his mind he always knew that she deserved better- but he always knew that he was a good father. He provided well for her, the best that he could. He read to her. Where others seemed annoyed by the slowness of his voice, his daughter seemed soothed by it. He always was afraid of letting her down too, but somehow she still managed to look up to him. He was somebody's hero.

And now they were gone. His ex-wife had remarried and they had moved to Seattle. There was no consulting him, no taking into consideration his feelings or his relationship with Sasha. His ex-wife's new husband had just been promoted and so they took away Toby's very life, with little to no warning. This was happening so fast. Good things happened to bad guys all the time. He wasn't a bad guy. He was a good guy. Why did bad things happen to him?

He got through the week, he didn't even look Michael in the eyes when he insulted him. Kelly would cheerfully greet Toby, but he didn't notice. What was his purpose anymore? She was probably being sarcastic. So he did his busy work, and counted off the days until Friday night, where he could get drunk, very drunk.

So after work, he went to his local hangout, his escape from work where no one knew he went to. He loved the office's hangout, but sometimes he liked to be totally anonymous. It was comforting.

He took a sip of his drink, a whiskey. Normally he didn't care for the stuff but tonight he needed something strong enough to help him forget. Forget about his ex. Forget about the move. Forget about Michael and the office. Tonight he wanted to be anyone, anyone but himself.

"Oh good. Not enough to ruin someone's day but here to kill everyone's buzz, here in the flesh is Toby Flenderson!"

It was Toby's worst nightmare. Had he drunk so much that he was hallucinating or was that really Michael Scott heading in his direction?

"Hello Michael.." he stammered.

"Hello Michael," Scott mimicked. "You're pathetic. You don't have anything better to do on a Friday night than to come to a bar and get drunk? We know you're sure not here to pick up women. Why don't you try a gay bar Toby? I'm sure you might find someone who might make a lovely party trick out of you."

"Michael please, can we just part ways for the evening? I'll let you hang out with your friends, I'll hang out with mine, we can make this an enjoyable evening for the both of us…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Am I interrupting something over here? I must have cut through the parade of girls lining up to meet you. You're so popular you know. "

Toby stood up and for a second everyone wondered if indeed he would punch Michael. Instead he grabbed his car keys and headed for the door.

Michael ran up and took his keys.

"Hey man, what do you think you're doing? That's not cool." Toby asked.

"You're not driving anywhere."

"What?"

"You're not driving. You're drunk. Get in my car. I'll drive you back to your place."

Too tired to protest, Toby obliged.

"Thanks, Michael, this is really sweet of you. I didn't know you cared."

"Stop it!" Michael angrily pulled over to the side of the road. "What's wrong with you man? I don't care. Don't you get it? No one cares about you. Not me, not your ex wife, not the office, not anyone. I thought you would get that by now!"

Toby looked at him for a long time, fighting back the tears that he had been holding back for a long time. He couldn't cry, not in front of Michael. He couldn't let him win, not this time. If he showed his weakness Michael would forever hold it over his head, and then he would never be able to show his face at work again. And Toby didn't have much, but for now Dunder-Mifflin was all he had. No, he had to be strong.

But then Michael started laughing. He was laughing at Toby. He was laughing at his weakness, his feelings, at everything that was wrong with him. He was laughing that he had lost. He was laughing at his pain. Michael had seen through him and thought it was all funny. It was just a game to him. And Toby couldn't take any more.

It was just one tear, but it was just enough to capture Michael's attention. Michael slowly stopped laughing, and looked at Toby then looked at the windshield. It slowly sank in what he had done. He had made someone cry. He, Michael Scott, had made another human being cry. Even if it was Toby. As often as he imagined this moment, he realized it just didn't feel as good as he thought it would.

In fact, it actually made him feel weak. All the power that he had over Toby went out the window when he realized he had crossed a line. He knew what it was like to cry. Sometimes when people called Michael an idiot that hurt his feelings, but he tried not to show it. But there were days that he did go home and have a good cry, even though no one knew it. After all, he was Michael Scott. People looked up to him. People wanted to be him. But who loved him. Really?

So he did the unexpected. He grabbed Toby and pulled him in close and held him for what seemed like an eternity. Toby closed his eyes and thought of Sasha. Michael thought of the family he would like to have one day. It would happen. Maybe not one hundred kids, but it would definitely happen.

Toby finally pulled away, and smiled reluctantly at Michael. He didn't smile back, but he nodded, acknowledging the moment between them. It would forever be their little secret.


	2. Chapter 2

Toby woke up on the couch, trying desperately to get rid of the hangover that had overtook him somewhere in the night. He didn't remember much of what had happened the night before- he'd made sure the whiskey had done its job. At first he didn't even realize that he was on the couch until he flung his arm down and his hand hit the floor.

_That's odd. I haven't slept on the couch since she was here._

And there were many sleepless nights on the couch. It didn't seem to matter what he had done. Maybe he had come home from work a little late without calling, or he didn't have an extra thirty dollars to give her for the week. Somehow it was his fault. It was always fault. And he accepted that. And he always would have. He never would have left her, though sometimes he thought about it. Sometimes he would actually stay later at work than he had to, rather than to go home to her. And he hated himself for it. So it was totally his fault that she left.

It worked better that way, if he were to blame for everything. Better not make waves. It worked that way at the office, especially when Michael yelled at him. Toby knew he could probably get Michael fired if he wanted to, if not for harassing him than for all of his other comments to his employees, but instead he did nothing. He did nothing while Michael constantly berated him, humiliated him in front of his peers and friends, laughed at his troubles and trials, mocked him, questioned his authority, and generally just made a fool out of himself making sure that Toby was as unhappy at work as possible. But Toby did nothing. He learned a long time ago that words couldn't hurt, could they? No. As long as he did his job then he didn't have to worry about Michael.

And after losing Sasha, his beloved daughter, Michael didn't seem so bad anyways. He almost welcomed going to face him instead of being all alone in his home on the weekends. Why did he decide to go out the night before anyways? Instead of being miserable he was sick and miserable. And lonely. That much was a given. But he had learned you didn't have to be alone to be lonely. He learned that at work- and at home.

Toby wasn't going to lie. If it so happened that he met a female last night, than so be it. He usually didn't do that sort of thing, he was more of the slow romancer type of guy but last night he really could have used the companionship of a woman. He always heard his friends talking about friends with benefits. One of those would be nice right about now. But he wasn't that type of guy.

Who was he anymore? These days he couldn't tell you. He'd given up his dreams to be with Cathy, a sacrifice he gladly made, and got settled into the HR profession. That wasn't his passion. He didn't wake up one day and say "this is what I want to do for the rest of my life." But it provided for his wife, and he liked that. He liked being needed. And Cathy needed him. She quit her job after Sasha was born. Times were tough but they managed. He made sacrifices. He had only a few suits that he wore to the office. It would have been nice if he could have bought a new one, but that didn't matter. His family had enough, and that was all that mattered. Let Michael crack on his suits all he wanted. Sasha was a very happy girl, and that was all Toby cared about.

And now here he was, miles away from his daughter. Suddenly it dawned on him how he got back home last night. Michael. Oh boy. He saw him at his weakest, and now he had to face him on Monday. Maybe, Toby thought, he could just quit. Costa Rica wasn't that bad. No one really missed him when he was gone. It was nice there. Hot, but nice. And he could always buy himself an air conditioner.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael got through the week, business as usual. He had an important conference call with David that he half suspected that Pam was listening in on, but he didn't worry about that. He was sure he made a great impression. That was him- the master of impressions. He could win anyone over, he was sure of it, with a few kind words, a joke or two, and as long as he set the tone with a positive attitude then who could walk away with a less than positive impression of him, no matter what the subject was? In all of his years' experience as businessman and manager, that sort of attitude had never failed him. That was what separated the winners from the losers. And he was definitely a winner.

Maybe he was too much of a winner. That might be why some of his staff and colleagues didn't always appreciate him. Some people were just natural born winners. That was he, Michael Scott. He might not have gone to _Cornell _but he sure worked his way up in his field, and that was in his opinion harder than going to school. That meant he had earned respect, not bought it like you would a degree. You can't just buy the love and trust of the people you work with, you have to work hard and be a person worth trusting and worth respecting, and yes, he would go as far to say it, worth loving. Take Michael himself. He didn't love paper, but he loved the people. And that's the attitude that made him stand out from everyone else, that's what made David Wallace call him to New York to ask "What is it that Scranton is doing differently than everyone else?" That's what makes Michael him.

"Hey hey hey guys, guess what today is?" Michael asked excitedly.

No one looked up.

"It's Fri-day. Fri-day. Time to partay. Time to get down and get down town. Who's with me? Anyone? Everyone?"

"I would, Michael, but I have an appointment. I could always try to cancel," Dwight said, looking more at Angela than at Michael. She shot him a dirty look, shaking her head no.

"No, forget it Dwight. How about you, Jim. You in?"

Jim looked up. "I'm sorry Michael. Maybe if you would have asked earlier…Pam and I have plans… it's sort of our anniversary. We've been talking about it all week."

"Well cancel them, that's an executive order," Michael smiled.

"No, Michael, Jim and I are not cancelling our anniversary. Again," Pam spoke up as she shut down her computer. She grabbed her sweater and left, with Jim following suit.

"Okay, boy, that's one reason I'm still single, no one to boss me around like that," Michael laughed, while no one else did. "Speaking of bosses, did I not mention that I'm still your boss, and as such I highly recommend that everyone join me for happy hour? It's your review week next week."

Toby was walking out the door but happened to overhear that. "Michael, I don't think you can threaten your employees with bad reviews if they don't go out with you."

"Oh what do you know? Just go home to your family..that's right, you have no family to go home to."

Michael looked at the rest of the office. "Well then, I suppose that's about it for this week. Good job guys, I'll be at Poor Richards. No pressure or anything. See you. Bye. Take care. "

00000

Two hours later, he slowly realized that no one had came to hang out with him. Not even Dwight. He thought for sure he would cancel his plans-whatever they were, he didn't want to know what they were, to be with him. As much as he hated to admit it he was disappointed. Now he knew where he stood with his office family. They weren't his family. They all had real family and friends to hang out with while he was all alone. Would it be like this forever?

It wasn't fair. He was a simple man with simple pleasures. He enjoyed the company of a nice girl now and then, though he had to admit that being a man in his position meant that it was harder to meet women than he cared to admit. He could easily see himself settled down with a wife and a couple of kids in five years. He'd have friends popping over with a present for the baby and to take pictures and to try to ask his wife's permission to get Michael out of the house to go Kareokeing with them on Friday night. He could totally see that happening.

He looked across the room and saw a beautiful blonde staring at him. Good. He liked blondes. Too bad Pam wasn't a blonde. He'd asked her to color her hair once but all that resulted in was the silent treatment for the rest of the day. He hated the silent treatment.

Michael walked across the woman and smiled. "Wow you look great tonight!"

"Thank you," she smiled back.

"I mean it… that dress really makes your…"

"Excuse me…"

"No I mean it, it really calls attention to your gigantic breasts. You must have all the guys hitting on you," Michael stared.

"Just the morons," the woman slapped Michael across the face then walked away.

What did he do? He was just giving her a compliment. If he was a woman he would like hearing that. Maybe he would never meet a woman. Maybe his coworkers would never want to hang out with him. It looked like tonight he was destined to be alone.

Suddenly he had the worst, most terrible idea of his life. He got in his car and headed across town to Lucky's, the bar from last weekend. What he hoped to find there, he had no idea.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael stood as he watched the red-head talk to some girl. Who was she? It couldn't be Toby's girlfriend- he was all alone. And besides, she was cute. Well as cute as someone could be who would talk to Toby. But still, maybe he had poisoned her. Maybe he had slipped her the date rape drug. If that was the case Michael knew he had better spring into action right away.

"I'm sorry to bother you miss but I couldn't help but notice you were standing here next to this man, and I was wondering how exactly you knew him."

"Not that it's any of your business but we just met. He bought me a drink," the girl, obviously irritated replied.

"So this stranger whom you just admitted you've never seen before just bought you a drink.. don't you think that's a little suspicious? Wait…put that glass down!" Michael knocked the glass out of her hand. "You don't know what he put in it. For all you know this man could be a serial rapist."

"I'm, I'm not a serial rapist," Toby protested as the girl pushed him off of her. "I'm not a rapist."

He turned to look at his accuser. "Really, Michael? A rapist? That's a strong accusation to make about me. Do you usually feel this strongly about things?" He took a deep breath, trying to avoid a confrontation. If there was anything Toby hated in the world it was confrontation. He confronted Cathy once. He'd heard something about her and his best friend. She didn't deny it. Confrontation usually never worked.

"Only about the things I hate. Like rapists. And Al-queda. And smurfs. And you."

"Michael, this isn't work. You don't have to be here." Toby paused. "Why are you here anyways?"

Michael looked away. He didn't know why he was there or what he wanted. How did you tell the one person you hated in the world that you wanted something from him- that you needed him more than you needed your own self just for that night? Sure, he could tell Toby that he just needed a friend, and Toby's stupid face would probably light up and he would be grateful for the chance to help someone. Who needed that?

Sensing the change in Michael's mood, Toby quickly changed the subject. "Would you like to play a game of pool?"

Michael nodded. They went to the pool room, where Toby proceeded to solidly beat Michael at the first game. Michael was pissed. He shoved his stick at him and spun around in frustration.

"Oh no no no. You cheated. I know you cheated because you suck. You suck at everything you do. You are no way better at pool than I am."

"Would you like to play again?"

"Yes but no cheating this time. I go first."

This time Michael did win, and he was even less of a gracious winner than he was a loser. By now Toby knew that his chances of leaving with a woman were less than none, but for some reason Michael needed him tonight, though God knew why.

Just then Michael attempted to stand on the pool table. "Attention everyone. I am Michael Scott and I am the king of the pool hall. I challenge anyone to beat me, if they dare, in the age old tradition of pool. I can take on anyone anytime. That's what she said. Hahaha. You, you in that black ripped up shirt," he said pointing to the biggest biker guy he could find. "I challenge you… winner takes a thousand dollars!"

Toby knew that by himself he was no match for that biker and that with the two of them together they would be even more worthless, so he had to do something. Michael resisted at first but Toby managed to pull him down and get him out the door. All the way back to Michael's condo he heard nothing but a lot of false bravado about how he could have taken the guy down, how he could have had any woman there, how he was so much more fun than Toby was. As usual, Toby just listened, trying not to make any more mental notes of this Michael Scott than he needed to. This was not a side of him that he particularly cared for.

Toby parked the car outside of Michael's condo. "Would you like me to walk you to the door?"

Michael grew suddenly quiet. "It's okay Michael. I don't have to. I just thought…"

"Do you know what it's like to be alone night after night with no one to come home to, no one to go to bed with, no one to cook dinner for?" Michael asked, startling Toby. Now he knew that Michael was really drunk.

"Yes Michael I do. I'm divorced, remember?" He knew he was setting himself up for a punchline, but he was still Toby, always trying to be helpful.

But this time Michael didn't bite. "No, its different. You had someone. I had Jan but that was different. You didn't know her like I did. I know you thought we had it all- great place, great looks, great sex- but let me tell you looks can be deceiving."

Toby looked away, unsure if he should be hearing this. Should Michael sober up surely he would hate him for knowing this much about himself.

"Jan was a scary scary woman, Toby. It was always about what she wanted. Never me. Never Michael. You know me, its all day long I'm busting my butt to give the customers and my staff what they want and then I had to come home and give give give some more. What about what I want, Toby? What about what I need?"

"I appreciate you sharing this w…"

"Cut the HR bullcrap and talk to me like a normal person. Or do you know how. Maybe that's why your wife left you," a frustrated Michael looked away. Right at the moment he needed something, anything to make him feel better, even if it came from Toby. If only he wasn't so… Toby.

"No, my wife left me for another man Michael."

Michael looked at him. "She did?"

"But I think that there is a woman out there who will appreciate you. You just have to keep looking."

Michael paused, leaving Toby wondering if he had helped or if he had, as usual, triggered Michael's temper.

"Yeah, keep looking. That's what I'm going to do. There's what, hundreds of single women in Scranton?"

Toby smiled. "Something like that."

"Keep on looking. Wow. Okay then. Well I'm going to go on in to bed. You okay, you need a place to crash?" It wasn't often he had overnight guests, and he jumped on any excuse he could find for one.

"Thanks, Michael, but I really should get going. See you on Monday," he smiled again.

"Jerk," Michael mumbled as he slammed the car door shut, leaving Toby to wonder what he had done wrong this time.


	5. Chapter 5

Toby noticed during his conference on Monday morning that Michael was visibly absent. He was at work all right; there was no shortage of bad puns and obnoxious laughter coming out from the shared workspace that morning. It was all right. He actually got through his meeting without being interrupted or insulted, and Kelly actually asked a few questions as if she were interested. But somehow it quite wasn't the same without the putdowns or the humiliation, go figure. That was why he paid his therapist the big bucks.

"Great meeting Toby," Jim smiled. "I only needed two shots of Novocain to get through it."

Toby nodded. He never knew how to take him.

"Don't listen to him. I thought that it was a great session on sexual harassment," Kelly smiled.

"Actually, it was on ergonomics in the workplace and what we can do to make our environment safer," Toby's voice trailed off as he noted that even Kelly's interested had waned by now.

By then her interest had faded and she had wandered off to something else. He was used to that by now.

He looked over at the picture of Sasha on his desk and picked it up. Seattle. He wondered what she was doing right at that moment. She was probably doing well, she always was a happy child. Somehow she had made it through the divorce just fine, though she seemed to cling to her mother a little more than she should. His therapist said that was normal, that was separation anxiety, probably caused by the divorce. Dr. Miller tried to reassure him that Toby did not cause any distress to Sasha, but he couldn't help feeling like it was his fault somehow. Like he had let her down. After all, it wasn't like he had wanted the divorce. But he had to learn to accept it, Dr. Miller said. It would make life a lot easier. He'd learned to accept a lot of things- his job, Michael, his co-workers, and up to a point, even his wife leaving, but even he had a boiling point. How do you accept not seeing your daughter except on holidays and vacations?

"Toby?"

The familiar voice snapped him out of his trance, while he crumbled up a piece of paper that was probably not important anyways.

"Toby are you okay? I didn't mean to disturb you," Pam smiled politely but curiously as she approached the HR rep.

"No, no you're fine. I was just thinking about my daughter," he smiled.

"Sasha? How is she?"

"Um, I think she's fine, I really don't know. I mean, I haven't really talked to her or anything."

"Really? Why not?"

"Well, her mother and step father moved to Seattle. For his job. So it's kind of hard to see her now," Toby sighed.

Pam wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't like they were in the business of sharing personal information, but she knew he loved his daughter. She felt bad for him, but what could she do? She looked around for someone to help, but unfortunately the only person she could find was Michael.

Not missing a beat, Michael walked over to the two of them. "What is this, bore the receptionist to death day, Toby? If it is I can see you're doing a very fine job. What's the matter, you didn't suck the life out of the group today but now you are doing it one by one?"

"I was just.."

"He was just telling me about Sasha, Michael," Pam smiled. "You remember Sasha." She picked up Sasha's picture and showed it to Michael. "Toby's brought her to work several times. You've played with her, remember?"

Michael's mood changed. He remembered how well he had connected with her, even hoping to be her godfather. "Yes, of course I remember Sasha!" he laughed. "How is the little munchkin?"

"She's okay I guess," Toby replied.

"What kind of answer is that? Why don't you bring her in again? I have more fun things in my desk. We can bring in an ice cream cake. How about Friday?" Michael was so enthusiastic, and pleasant, that Toby knew he would have to tell the truth.

"I can't, Michael. Sasha doesn't live here anymore. She lives in Seattle. With her mother. And stepfather. They moved a few weeks ago."

Everyone grew quiet, then Michael looked at the wadded up ball of paper next to the picture of Sasha, and suddenly it made sense why Toby was going out on the weekends. This man was even lonlier than he was.

This would have been the perfect time to kick Toby when he was down, to make a comment about how his family so disliked him, they moved several states away to get away from him. But for once, Michael thought better of it.

_This one's on me, _he thought, as he shook his head and slowly walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Toby just got back from Dr. Miller's when he was shocked to see Michael waiting by the door of his apartment. He was holding a bucket of KFC in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other, and he looked like he'd been waiting awhile.

"Michael…why are you here? Is this for me? I mean is this for us?" he asked, confused.

"Pretty quick on your feet aren't you Toby? Are you going to make me stand here for another hour or are you going to invite me in?" Michael rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, here let me grab that," he took the beer out of Michael's hands then approached his apartment door. After nervously fumbling with the keys- anytime Michael stared at him it made him nervous- he opened the door and let in his very unexpected guest.

"Nice," Michael mumbled, and Toby couldn't be sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. What exactly was he doing here? Michael followed him to the kitchen where he heated the food up in the microwave.

"How many bedrooms is this?" Michael asked. "One?"

"Two," Toby admitted, knowing that his home felt small but it seemed right for him and Sasha.

"Closets don't count, Toby."

"I do have two bedrooms, Michael. One for me and one for my daughter. They are upstairs."

"What do you plan to do now? Do you plan to downsize? I know someone who could put you in a great one bedroom. Surely you don't need two now. I could get you out of here in a month. I .."

"Michael," Toby raised his hand. "I don't need a one bedroom. I like it here. And Sasha will be back to visit. During the summer and stuff."

"Oh yeah." It never occurred to Michael about vacations, but it seemed to him that Toby was deluding himself if he thought that those vacations would work out. They might happen the first year, but pretty soon there would be camps and friends and sleepovers and stuff. Yeah, Toby was pretty much toast. "Well, you never know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh wait, did you hear the timer go off? I think the food's ready. Don't wait for the food to cool off. Where do you keep your plates?"

Toby grabbed the plates and silverware, but he still wanted to know what Michael meant by his last comment. Did he know something that Toby didn't? No, that was impossible, he was just being paranoid. But still he planted a seed in his mind that he just couldn't shake.

Michael did most of the talking over the dinner, mainly doing impressions of people of the office with Toby telling him that wasn't appropriate. He found himself almost laughing a few times; it was hard not to laugh at Michael, but he would not be a very good HR rep if he condoned Michael's behavior, even if it was off the clock. Even he had to admit he did a killer Kevin impression, but again, that just was not funny. It really wasn't.

"Why do you do that, Michael?" Toby asked as he took a swig of beer.

"Do what?"

"Nothing."

"No you said something, finish it. I demand you finish it." Michael stared at him.

"I was wondering why you make fun of other people? It might hurt their feelings. But never mind. It doesn't matter."

"You think that's what I'm doing, making fun of people? I'm having fun with people! There is a difference. Fun is when people laugh. That's the difference between you and I Toby. When I 'make fun of people' people laugh, they get me, the respect me. When you make fun of people they don't laugh, they don't respect you."

"I don't make fun of people Michael and you're the main one who treats me with disrespect."

"Look at you! Your wife didn't respect you! Your friends don't respect you or they would be here with you knowing your wife took your daughter with her. And your coworkers don't respect you or they would be throwing you a birthday party on the party committee. How about that Toby, where's your party?" Michael scoffed.

"Um, you sorta won't let them throw one for me."

"That's right. Because I'm the leader of the group and I'm representing what the group wishes. And the group wishes for you not to have a birthday."

Toby looked down at his feet, then looked around at his surroundings. This all sounded so familiar. He was used to taking it at work, but this was his home, his safety zone. What did Michael want from him anyways? It used to be that Michael went out of his way to ignore him but now he was showing up at _his _bar and _his _home and he was still disrespecting him.

"Listen Michael this is my home and I appreciate the dinner and the drinks and you dropping by but I would rather you not talk to me that way."

"Or what?" Michael challenged.

"Or I'm going to ask you to leave." Toby looked at him so seriously even Michael knew that he meant it. Eye contact was not Toby's strong suit.

Michael looked around and saw how bare the place was, save for a few pictures of Sasha and some books. He wondered if Toby even had cable. Why did he do it? Why was he so hateful towards him?

After a minute Michael changed the subject. "You know Toby I have a good lawyer."

"What are you planning to sue me?" Toby asked, confused.

That made Michael laugh. "No. For Sasha. Maybe he could help you, you know…"

"Thanks Michael I appreciate it. I really do. But I had a good lawyer. A few of them. That's why I sold the house. That's why I have…this…. I don't really do lawyers anymore."

"Yeah I don 't blame you. You got screwed. Screwed big time. Hey it's Monday night, isn't there a game on or something?"

Toby smiled. He didn't really follow the games, and he was pretty sure Michael didn't either, but he sure appreciated the company. And was starting to suspect that Michael really did too.


End file.
